Short Story: Something More

Their opponents were standing on the other side of the ground. The score line of their last match reverberated in his mind. His team had lost that match 0-1. But lot has changed in the last two years. When he packed his uniform in his bag, he knew that his team would beat them today. His participation in next year’s zonal was not assured since he will be in his 10^th standard and his parents will definitely ask him to stop playing. The team which had made the final on other part of the draw was not formidable. The zonal title was assured for them if they manage to beat their opponents today – ‘Government boys higher secondary school’.

Only one of his team mates had a full grown moustache while for the others it was just blossoming. His team was through their warm up when his coach called him.

“Sathya, give these sheets to the referee and call the boys along”. “Yes sir”.

He loved his coach. Kindness is a rare trait in football coaches. Coaches call their students all sorts of names when they make mistakes on the field. He vividly remembers an incident when he saw a coach beat his student for a blunder which cost the match. But Senthil sir is a gem, he thought. He rarely spoke a harsh word and never called his boys any names.

“Assemble boys”, he yelled at the top of his voice. He had a great team, which in his opinion was thoroughly skilled and have worked really hard. They used to play with a 4-2-4 formation. But after introspection, the change to 4-3-3 has done them a lot of benefits which was clearly evident in their 2-0 victory yesterday.

His coach cleared his voice. “You’ve played as a unit in your previous outings. I definitely believe that you are the team to win the zonal this year. All I ask now is focus. It will make the difference”.

The players huddled together and prayed before the ball. As the captain he was the first one to enter the field from his side. Speckles of powder flew from the line, when he touched it with his hand for kissing it and he slowly dribbled the ball into the field. His team mates followed him in a single file. He fastened his pace, took flight and as he entered the D-box he fired the ball into the net. He never understood the reason for this ceremony before the start of every match. But today it made him feel really good. The sky was calm and cloudy.

As the boys started to form a circle to practice a few last passes Sathish said loudly, “Sathya, remember No.6”. “Oh, yes”, said he. He looked across the other side of the field. No.6 had scored that one goal which knocked out his team when they met in their 7^th standard. And today, he was surprised that they were wearing the same jersey color which they had two years ago. The same faded pink jersey with the blue shorts and he also noticed that only two on the other team were wearing boots while on his team only two were on bare foot. The two were Karthik, the central midfielder and Bhuvanesh the right back. Karthik always used to say that playing with bare foot gave him better control. Their team was wearing the black jersey which they paid for that year. Each cost 300 rupees. His thoughts paused when Sathish shouted again.

“Sathya and David, I don’t want No.6 to score today”.

“Even if he gets past them, he isn’t getting past me”, said Deepak their versatile goalkeeper. His only shortcoming was his poor goal kicks but Bhuvanesh is the one who took all the kicks in the last match which has gone well so far.

“We’ve got it covered at the back, now listen up. Sathish, don’t fall deep to get the ball. Wait in your position and look for passes from Syed and Vishnu. And most importantly, pass and play. This is not an exhibition. We don’t want them to know our best player. Rely on both your sides – Vignesh and Amudhan”. When Sathya finished, Sathish nodded. Sathish was suffering from the ‘to exhibit’ syndrome which all good strikers suffer from – trying to score the goal by themselves without relying on the team. But that is the level of discipline you can expect from 14 and 15 year olds.

“All right team. I do feel nervous. But if we play as a team, we win”.

The toss favored his team and he chose to start. The opponents were not ready to change their sides. With Sathish and Amudhan moving inside the circle, Sathya hurried back to his position – left back. The formation was ready.

Sathish and Amudhan were inside the circle. Vignesh was the right striker. Syed, Karthik and Vishnu formed the second line. Sathya and Bhuvanesh were the left and right backs. David and Michael took the central back positions. Their opponents were using a 4-2-4 formation.

When the goal keepers signaled their readiness, the match began with the first whistle. As the opponents pounced for the ball, Sathish and Amudhan were calm. The passed the ball to their own half, and the boys attached a string of passes. The faded pink jerseys could only jockey their way around the strikers and midfielders.

Sathya made the first touch when he went in to support Syed who had a tough time with No.3 the pink right wing. After faking him, he looked for Sathish, who was marked pretty well by their No.20. “Not now”, he said to himself.

“Come on in, Sathya”, yelled Senthil sir. He dribbled his way along, struck a 1-2 with Karthik to cross their half. He spooned a long ball to their right striker but he was intercepted and possession changed hands for the first time. But the opponents didn’t do much and the match had its first throw in. He could hear his heart beating. He did run a long way from his position. He huddled back. For the first ten minutes there wasn’t much both sides could do. Balls weren’t sticking to any team and possession changed hands quickly, not one team had ventured close the D-circle.

Prospects brightened for their team when possession changed hands at a crucial juncture in the midfield. The opponent’s midfielders had mixed it up, while receiving the ball and Sathish cut through. He had two defenders to beat if he was going solo. Amudhan and Vignesh charged on the left and right wings. When Sathish faked the first central back, the pink right back , ran towards Sathish which left their left striker completely open.

Though Senthil sir knew that when you are in the D-box the striker loses all his senses, he had to shout “On your left”. It was certain that Sathish hadn’t heard him but he did something which he rarely does, he passed to his left. In the next second, the ball was slotted on the left corner. The goalkeeper had no chance.

Amudhan punched his fist in the air. It was his second goal of the tournament, but credit does go for a brilliant assist from Sathish. No.3 who was ahead of me, was shocked.  He was talking to No.6, “What is happening?” Their defensive line up was overjoyed but not Senthil sir.

“Take your positions boys”.

“We’re not losing from now, definitely no, I want to win the zonal this year”, said Michael to me. “I hope so. They haven’t given a challenge to our defense just yet”, replied Sathya. But he knew it was not true. No.3 had beaten him just five minutes ago. They were lucky that when he tried to run around Sathya, he could not get to the ball and it was out. Sathya could see that No.6 was furious. It was game on.

When the game resumed, the pink jerseys were firing on all guns. For the next ten minutes, the ball didn’t cross the half line. Passes began to stick well for his team, but the opponents had something more, which made them intercept most of them to deny possession. But Sathya has done the part on his wing. He hasn’t been passed since that only hiccup. He personally began to like No.3 who was slightly taller than him. “He is good, but he had to be better to get past me”, he said to himself. They were soaked in sweat though the sky was cloudy. Sathya hoped that the sun wouldn’t show up to make it worse. The problem now, was taking the ball to the other side, since Bhuvanesh’s goal kicks weren’t good enough today.

Lightning struck two minutes from then.  Few meters before the D-box there was a handball call against them and the referee awarded the free kick. Though the defense wall set well, No.6 produced a peach of a kick to beat Deepak to slot in the pink’s first goal. Sathya was shocked and so was the team. Half time was called in few minutes from resuming play.

The black jerseys walked slowly outside the field. “No.6 has scored today”, said Sathish. No one replied anything. The scores were level on 1-1 but they were not happy.

“Stretch your legs and have water”, ordered Senthil sir. He sat down with them. They listened carefully to what he said. There wasn’t much of a difference between the two teams. They were the slightly better team. Their only problem was getting past the midfield especially because of the goal kicks.

Vignesh sprayed the pain reliever on his knee. But the injury didn’t seem as bad as the pink strikers got hit from them, thought Sathya. He emptied the remaining glucose powder in his mouth. He knew they were playing well, but it will need ‘something more’ to beat them.

Sides changed at half time but the onslaught of the pink jerseys hasn’t changed at all. They didn’t have a great game of air ball, they relied mostly on ground balls but still they managed to stick their passes together while the black jerseys were frustrated. Fifteen minutes into it, out of desperation Sathya asked his team to charged forward, when their opponents were to fire a goal kick. Their central backs had moved out of the D-box and were only few meters from the half line. Only Sathya and Bhuvanesh stayed back. Their centre back misjudged the bounce on the goal kick and all of a sudden Sathya and Bhuvanesh were up against 3 strikers. No.6 and No.3 were charging in and No.2 was right behind them. No.6 made the first touch of the ball, and No.3 pierced on the right wing while No.2 made his move to the left. Bhuvanesh jockeyed to the center while the left was wide open. Sathya had to make a choice, whether to jockey No.3 or to attack No.6. He attacked No.6 since he felt that two strikers could beat Bhuvanesh easily. When he pounced in, No.6 looked over Sathya’s shoulder. Sathya understood this stare. When No.6 floated that lob Sathya knew it was over. He turned to look back hoping that No.3 would be offside but he was just in. Deepak couldn’t do much when No.3 fired it in the corner. The blacks were devastated.  

The rest of the five minutes could not produce any brilliance from the team and their zonal trophy dream was over when the referee blew the whistle. They've lost 1-2. Sathya had to admit that the better team won today. His team wasn’t up to the challenge. After the usual shaking hands, they slowly treaded to their backs. Bhuvanesh started to cry, “My kicks were poor today”. Each tried to console the other though all of their eyes were moistened.

When they picked up their bags, Senthil sir came there after signing the forms.

“I don’t want to blame you for losing the match today. It is just that they had ‘something’ more. Look at them. They are from the government school. They don’t know technical terms like tactics, strategy, long ball and others. They just know one thing, Run, pass and kick. Football doesn’t suit you people. Games like chess, basketball, cricket and table tennis would suit you. For playing football, you need something more. It is something more which the privileged don’t know and only the deprived do”.

When sir finished and asked us to get inside the bus, Sathish retorted, “Too much philosophy for 9^th standard students”. Sathya knew that sir was right but he was deep in thought about that ‘something more’. He couldn’t stop thinking about it until he reached his home. He told his mother that they’ve lost the match and that football was over for this year. When she asked him one question Sathya’s face brightened. What they had was neither better skill or hard work as he thought or focus as his sir was talking about before the match. It was neither the boots nor the jersey which they were wearing. That ‘something more’ was the word which his mother uttered right now.

“Are you hungry?”